Haboolm Ksinaalgat
by YoungestThunderbird
Summary: What if the Golden Trio had looked beyond Britian for a solution to the Horucrux problem? Now expanded with other mythologies to satisfy my plot bunnies. Voldie won't see any of it coming. Let's be real, the Power that the Dark Lord Knows Not could have been much more exciting then Love. No offense meant by any portrayals of anyone, especially religious figures.
1. Other Continents

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were spending time in the common room of Griffindor tower together at the close of their sixth year. Harry and Ron were playing chess, with Harry losing as usual, and Hermione was reading a book. Ron had just put Harry in checkmate when Hermione shrieked and jumped up to run over to them.

Harry immediately leapt to his feet and said, "What's wrong?"

Hermione merely showed them the book, or more appropriately pamphlet, she had been reading. Harry looked down and read, with Ron peeking over his shoulder. The writing was blurry and thick in places like it had been printed with a printing press.

 _The soul catcher, or haboolm kasinaalgat, is a device used by tribes of the North Pacific Coast to capture the soul of a person whose soul has wandered outside their body. SEE: THE FALLING SICKNESS._

"Doesn't that sound familiar?" Hermione asked.

"So you're saying that this device can catch pieces of soul?" Ron asked.

Harry answered for her. "Yes. This is what this does. This could change the war."

...

After a long time discussing what to do about the discovery, they turned the book over and read the small, hand-lettered cover.

 _NATIVE AMERICAN TOTEMS, AMULETS, AND MEDICINE MAGICS,_ It said.

 _By John Rains._

"I'll contact him." Hermione said. "He has a telephone number in the back."

...

Later that summer, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all snuck away from their families and met in a field not far from the Burrow. They had agreed to meet there because Ron did not have the option of public transportation.

Hermione took out a programmable portkey, and carefully enunciated, "Four Totem Lodge, Denali, Alaska." The portkey, a worn wooden disc about the size of the frisbee, did its job and whisked them away.

...

They landed in the yard of a longhouse, with four tall totem poles. A teenage boy, who looked about seventeen years old, played a handheld game on the steps of the lodge. The front yard had a well kept herb garden, and everything was worn but neat and clean. To Hermione, it seemed as if a strange force permeated the dwelling, one speaking of a long past time and ancient practices.

She shook the feeling off and went up to the boy.

"Hello, is this the residence of John Rains?"

The boy looked up to display a roguish grin and eyes that somehow told of mischief and seriousness at the same time. "Yes, he's my uncle. I'm Caleb Walker, I stay with him while my parents are away. I'll show you in, we've been expecting you. He would like to talk to you about your call." He rushed toward the door, unlatched it, and hurried in, beckoning them to follow. They did as they were told, and disappeared into the dwelling.

...

Caleb skidded to a stop in front of an open door and knocked on the doorframe before proceeding in at a more sedate pace. He stopped again in front of a man who was reading a book before the fire. He leaned to whisper in the man's ear, and suddenly Hermione was fixed with a piercing gaze from a pair of dark brown eyes. They spoke of intelligence, wisdom, and a fierceness long lost to any wizard in Britain. She could almost have sworn that they flashed a black like the night, a night void of any light save that of the moon and stars. He stood up, and Hermione could swear he had just walked out of another century despite the fact that he was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt instead of buckskin.

"My name is John Rains. Pleased to meet you." He murmured. Hermione could feel the strange force around him, almost as though it was a part of him. She shivered reflexively, and noticed Harry and Ron doing the same. As she shook his hand, she couldn't help but wonder just who or what this man was.

...

He led them to a study and closed the door behind them, when gestured for them to sit.

"I was surprised that you contacted my about my pamphlet. I was unaware that anyone actually read it. It was part of an exchange program between Britain and America. I wrote it, had a friend print it and another friend bind it. All I received in return was a pamphlet showcasing the superiority of wizard pure bloods. I'm glad someone learned something."

Hermione stiffened at the insinuation about wizards. However, from what she had learned of the Ministry, she had to admit that that was a likely scenario.

"We wanted to ask about Soul Catchers." Harry took the lead in the conversation. Rains raised his eyebrows and retrieved something from his desk.

"Before we begin, I must tell you that not all soul magics are illegal here. Some are used help trauma victims, others aid young warriors in seeking guidance, and the kind we are speaking of helps the sufferers of a certain kind of sickness.

"We called it the falling sickness. Those who contracted it were weak and sickly for no apparent cause, and often would be seized by odd sensations and fall down. The cause was isolated as a piece of their soul wandering outside their body. We made soul catchers to hold the soul until we could return it to the body."

He took out a case with ten small tubes made of bone or ivory, inlaid with abalone.

"Did you get my message about the use we hope to put them to?"

"Yes. Splitting the soul is undoubtedly one of the worst crimes, especially if it involves murder. If it happened, this man would be put to death." Rains looked grave and pushed the case forward.

"I have heard of the deeds of the wizard you hope to stop. This is my gift to you, along with my hopes that they will do the job. The only other information I could give you is that if he patient had died by the time we had captured their soul, we either buried the catchers with him or burned them. In this case, I would suggest burning."

"How do we use them?" asked Ron, who had been listening quietly until that time, said.

"To use them, merely put them near the piece of soul. It will take care of the rest. The abalone will turn color once the soul is inside. To demonstrate-"

He abruptly stood and slammed a tube, end first, against Harry's scar. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head and he started screaming. The strange power that seemed to permeate the residence abruptly increased until it seems almost tangible. Hermione, in a panic, immediately drew her wand and pointed it at Rains, while Ron almost fired off a stunning spell before Caleb, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, clamped a hand on his mouth and immobilized his arm.

"Wait!" He hissed. He watched Rains intently as he gently laid Harry, who had stopped screaming and appeared to be peacefully sleeping, on the ground. Rains stood up and offered a soul catcher to Hermione, except the abalone was a dull black.

"Your friend had a passenger. He's fine now."

Hermione took the catcher in a state of shock and was about to ask more questions when Harry woke up.

"What happened?"

"A soul that wasn't yours was riding around in your head. Uncle got it out. You're fine now." Caleb interjected. He seemed fidgety for some reason.

"You had better go, Uncle is no longer young and this takes a lot out of him." Hermione looked over to see Rains appear to nurse a headache as he slowly sat down on his chair. Caleb ushered them outside and bid them a hasty goodbye as he pressed a webbed hoop with feathers dangling off it into each of their hands.

"For nightmares." He said, shortly.

Ron, who was still suspicious, asked, "Why are you doing this?"

Caleb merely paused, looked tired, and said, "My uncle has a saving people thing."

Ron looked at him, and in that moment, Hermione swore she saw the closest any two men would get to understanding each other completely and totally, and still agreeing with each other wholeheartedly. Ron later said it was like looking in a sort of murky mirror. Then Caleb started hustling them toward the portkey again.

Hermione only just remembered to pay him before the portkey took them away.

...

Caleb returned to the house and found his Uncle standing in the front entryway looking out a window.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, Uncle."

The man known to the Golden Trio as John Rains just looked at him.

"You know it is my job to help when I am needed."

"But did you have to seek a job in Britain, Uncle? There's plenty to do here."

"That boy has been through more than any child should be. I have a soft spot for children. Also, this way the twins you like so will stay alive."

The Trickster Coyote, also known as Caleb, smirked at his Uncle Raven.

"In other words, it was an early birthday present, old man? Thank you. It's much better than socks."

"Glad you like it. Now, impudent pup, go do your chores. I know that you were playing that infernal video contraption again."

...

In the Room of Requirement Hermione looked at the gathering of determined young people and then back at the case with the inscribed bird on top, and wondered, as the rest of the gathering plotted and planned and _dreamed_.

...

Notes:

The soul catcher is an actual device. Its use was a bit more complicated than described, as the art of the shaman often relied on tricking the body into getting better, but I simplified it for story purposes.

Coyote and Raven are actually characters in many Native American mythologies.

Coyote is a trickster spirit, and often called Old Man Coyote. However, tricksters have always seemed more teenagery to me. I imagine he dressed up to make people believe he was older.

Raven is a guardian spirit. He sometimes tricks people into helping others, but I blame that on Coyote's influence. He is not actually Coyote's uncle in mythology, again, artistic license.

Raven and Coyote are, obviously, my OCs. Please do not use them.


	2. Old Goddesses

In a secluded room of Hogwarts, far away from prying eyes, two people chanted in prayer. The reason that the room was secret was because of exactly who they were praying to- the worship of a destruction goddess was not encouraged by the faculty. The English had long become narrow-minded to the old deities and had conveniently forgotten how bloodthirsty their own old gods were.

The two finished their chant in front of a small incense altar and waited. They had long since prepared offerings and painted the red footprints to represent the presence of the goddess. It was the sacred new moon of Margashirsha and they were hoping to entreat the goddess to destroy the evil which was currently in their land. They had long worshiped her, but had never hoped for her as much as they did now. One of them, the Griffindor, had come up with the idea; the other, a Ravenclaw, had researched on how to entreat the goddess properly. They waited in anticipation and were rewarded.

The smoke from the incense shifted and changed into a terrible form, dark as night. The goddess looked like a human except her skin was blacker than polished ebony, and one could see the power of the monsoon in her eyes. Her hair was long and matted with a substance that might have been dirt but probably wasn't. Both figures were struck dumb for a moment, until the Gryffindor found her voice.

"My Lady." Both bowed respectfully.

The goddess looked upon them with faint approval at their respect. She raised an eyebrow.

"Why have you summoned me?" she asked, as if she already knew the answer. Her voice cracked with a thousand fires and ratted with ten thousand gongs.

"A great evil has blighted our land, and threatens us, our family, and our friends. We wish help in fighting it." Said the Ravenclaw. "He appears to be blessed by a vile and horrible god, for none can defeat him. There is a prophecy of his defeat by a boy, but the boy has disappeared. He is said to be fighting on his own, with only his two friends to help him."

"The prophecies of those who call themselves Wizards are often faulty, my devoted. They look to no god to guide them and only rely on their own power to manipulate Fate. Often, Fate manipulates them instead. Still, the one of this boy is truer than most, I suppose. He is looking to destroy abominations- disgraces to the face of the earth. This man, who calls himself Lord, has split his prana and put it into objects. He knows no love, no kindness, only fear and hate."

The Ravenclaw went white.

She whispered to herself, "Horucruxes?"

Kali turned to look at her, and her movements were sinuous as a panther and deliberate as a war elephant.

"Yes. That is what the wizards call them."

"My lady? What can we do?"

Kali looked like she had a bad taste in her mouth.

"Because you are so far away, my devoteds, I cannot help you directly. The Morrigan, though bound, still holds power here and I cannot cross her without breaking Unwritten Laws. The most I can do for you is give you this." She procured two small tokens, both of which had an image of her on one side but an elaborate triskelion on the other.

"Keep these safe. The Morrígan hates this evil as much as I do, and will judge when called upon. When he is near, dip these in blood, for they will summon her for judgement."

"We thank you, my Lady." Both figures bowed low again. Kali said no word, but was gone as the smoke.

...

The battle was fierce and terrible, with curses being cast in every direction. One could hardly tell who was on whom's side. However, at the very center of the battle stood a man and a boy. The boy was tired, and flagging, but the man was not showing any signs of weakness. He cast curse after curse, only barely being blocked by the boy. However, moving toward them determinedly was a girl in a student uniform. She clutched the token until she had gotten near to the pair, and then dipped it in the blood of a fallen Death Eater.

The battle **stopped**.

Three women stepped forward. They had always been there, but no one recognized them.

The first spoke, and she was a young girl in a Hogwarts uniform.

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle. You have created abominations to death and abominations to life. I stand in judgement for these atrocities and find you guilty." Her eyes began to glow in a sickly green.

The second stepped forward, and she was a mature woman in a Death Eater Robe.

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle. You desecrate the act of battle and desecrate the act of making war. I stand in judgement for these desecrations and find you guilty." Her eyes glowed green as well.

The third stepped forward, and she was an old woman, dressed like a grandmother, but with a small phoenix on her jacket like the Order had.

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle. You are a detestation to the gods you hoped to become and a detestation to the face of the world. I stand in judgement for these detestations and find you guilty." Her eyes also turned green.

Voldemort, who had been struggling to escape the three, could not move. No one could. The world was as if time had stopped.

The green of the three's eyes began to brighten and brighten until there was a flash. When it faded, Voldemort was gone. So was Nagini. The Death Eaters were powerless, and removed of their mark. The girl still stood nearby, and was joined by her sister. The boy turned to them.

"What was that?" Harry asked. Padma and Parvati Patil looked at each other, and Padma answered.

"There are powers that every wizard knows not, and things beyond what you are willing to accept."

Patil nodded.

"Voldemort has stood judgement from a court higher than many. He is gone, never to return. Rejoice."

Harry cracked a cautious grin and went to look for his friends. The Patils smirked at each other. In the jungle far away, a cry of veangeance was sung, and England was at peace.


	3. Saints and Dragons

The Weasely house was bustling with activity. Bill's wedding was on the horizon, and the entire family was pitching in. Harry and Hermione were helping as well, when they weren't trying to prepare for their Horucrux-hunting trip. However, even Ron was worried. Charlie noticed and asked them what was wrong. After some extensive prodding and threat of Molly Weasley in full Howler mode, they revealed their plans to go horucrux hunting. Charlie looked worried.

"How are you going to destroy them?" he asked.

"We don't know," Ron replied. Charlie looked thoughtful and took out a dagger, about six inches long and very sturdy, and gave it to them.

"This might work." The dagger was steel, but the very center of it was a different color of the edges. The colored area was small and jagged, about a finger's length and width.

"What will this do?" Hermione asked.

"It kills rogue dragons." Charlie answered seriously.

Hermione, with all her animal rights grounding, was outraged.

"Why would you need to kill dragons? They're endangered! That's illegal!"

Charlie looked serious.

"What I am about to tell you, you can't tell anyone, OK?"

They nodded, and Charlie launched into his story.

"A long time ago, Dragons were actually a huge threat."

Hermione interrupted with, "But why would they be? They have reserves..."

Charlie sighed.

"Hermione? When was Hogwarts founded?"

"Around a thousand years ago." was the prompt answer.

"How did wizards get an education before that?"

"They learned from their family."

"When was the first dragon reserve founded?'

"At the same time as the Statute of Secrecy, in 1689."

"So there were no dragon reserves before then. Especially none before Hogwarts. Dragons are wild animals, wild, hungry animals that need a lot of food to be full. Some even liked the taste of human flesh. And they are almost impossible to kill." Charlie looked grave.

"Before Hogwarts, only the wealthy families learned more than about two dozen spells in their magical education. Most of those two dozen spells were to help chores. They didn't know the spells, didn't have the wards, so when a dragon settled near them and thought that their cattle, goats, sheep, or children made a good snack... They didn't have many options. Muggles didn't, especially. Many tried to kill them with pitchforks and other farm tools. Others tried with swords. Even a knight or three, sometimes. But nothing worked."

"But obviously something did, seeing as we have all of those legends."

"There was a son of a noble family, which has since been lost to time, called George. We think that a dragon took his sister. The accounts don't describe it very well, they just call it a Medusa. We don't know what that is, but we hypothesize it to be a dragon because it seems to share reptilian characteristics."

Hermione turned white.

"Medusa was a monster that turned people to stone, Charlie." Harry perked up and started to listen.

"Okay. I'll tell that to the reserve director. Anyway, he set out to kill it. He polished his shield, as he had heard about in some legend, and got his hands on the best sword he could- it had been kept in a church. The name of it was Clarent, and it was said to have killed King Arthur."

"Who was he?" Ron broke in.

"Very important muggle sovereign helped by Merlin." Harry summarized.

"Go on, Charlie."

"Long story short- he killed the thing. It was said to be a giant snake, but it already ate his sister."

"It was a basilisk, Charlie." Hermione was scribbling on a piece of paper.

"What?"

"Medusa turned people to stone. So does the basilisk. However, Medusa appeared in the form of a humanish woman with snakes for hair, so that wasn't her."

"I want you to please find us a book on this. We've been looking for answers to that for a while, but we had thought that it was a Chinese Fireball."

"His sword, after that, killed anything. It was a different color too, so we theorize that is was dipped in the creature's blood."

"Or venom." Harry remembered the diary and how it died from the venom.

"Or venom. George, being a heroic type, didn't want anyone else to go through what he did. He was a traveling dragon hunter for the rest of his days. After he died, Clarent went to a monastery in Nicomedia, but the monastery was destroyed in the war against Grindlewald. Grindlewald wanted the sword, you see, but it shattered at his very touch. It did not want to serve such an evil master, for even Mordred Arthur's Bane wanted good and not death. The monks gathered up each piece with care and sent them to the Romanian reserve where I work, to be protected by the dragons."

"They didn't think it through, did they?" Harry asked.

"On the contrary. Even Grindlewald wasn't thought to be crazy enough to attack a dragon reserve, so many valuable artifacs were sent to the various reserves around Europe. However, the dragons could smell the death on the pieces and refused to come near them. At that time, the reserve was under siege by Grindlewald's forces. There was one handler, a muggleborn, who knew the legend, and proposed a plan to the head of the reserve: the forces of Grindlewald had one dragon. Only one. He wanted to make an arrow from a shard and try to kill it with it. The handler saw absolutely nothing to lose in his plan, as the reserve was in a precarious position. The handler made the arrow, shot it, and the dragon fell dead. The rest of Grindlewald's forces fled in terror from the weapon that could kill even a dragon."

"So the handler made more weapons?"

"Yes. Rogue dragons are a problem, or they were. They no longer are. I cleared this with the head of the reserve- he doesn't want to be under siege again."

"Thank you, Charlie."

...

Three months later

"Got the locket, Harry!" Hermione tossed it to him. One stab, and the gold filigree was cut in two with a soul pouring out of it.

...

Six months later

"Did you hear what she said about her vault?" Harry said.

"Great!" Ron exclaimed."Why not break into Gringotts! And bring the moon on a chain to me while you're at it!"

Some close shaves and a dragon later...

A horucrux rose from the hole in an ornate cup.

...

Not much later

"Diadem? Does it look like a crown?" Ron yelled. "Toss me the knife!"

...

During the Battle of Hogwarts

"Where's that bloody dagger!?" Neville yelled as he fought off Nagini. Suddenly, he had a sword- and swung it.

"...Nevermind!"

...

Neville stood in front of Voldemort while Harry snuck up on him. In the middle of his monologue, Voldemort jerked once, gurgled, and exploded into ash. The Death Eaters, dismayed by the loss of their master, attacked, but between the students defending the castle, Neville with a three-foot sword, and Harry sneaking around with the knife, they were soon defeated.

...

Somewhere in the afterlife, Dumbledore looked disgruntled.

"That was too easy. There was no journey for Harry as a hero." Sirius and Severus, in a rare moment of accord, looked at him like he was insane.

"The Dark Lord is dead, and you COMPLAIN?"


	4. Not All Snakes Are Evil

Note: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else you recognize.

We're over the 5,000 word mark, ladies and gents!

...

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were running out of options. The locket was poisoning their minds, and they knew it. Even when buried in their luggage, they could hear it whispering in their heads. They didn't know what to do.

Harry was outside, trying to get away from the thing- he could hear it most. He looked at the evening sky, at the first star visible, and wished. It might seem a little childish, he reasoned, but he would take all the luck he could get.

Little did he know that he had woken a long dormant power. A power that even the Dark Lord knew not.

...

The next day, the trio were outside, burying a box with the locket inside. It was the best solution so far. Hermione theorized that the soul fragment didn't like the earth because it needed energy to survive and earth was dark and inert. They buried it as soon as they got to each new campsite. However, this campsite was different.

Harry had wanted to camp here, he said it was comforting and safe. Hermione was a bit comforted too, but she was also scared. The site was an abandoned nursery. The grasses had grown tall and the trees and bushes had grown wild, creating the effect of a jungle. Hermione supposed that it would be easier to hide if they were found, so she said nothing. Ron just wanted to sleep- the locket seemed to switch to him during he night.

...

A man came up to their campsite in the dead of night. He smiled at the tent and started to dig up the locket. He examined it, came to a conclusion, and was gone.

That night, astronomers all over England were stunned to see the light of Venus completely disappear for over an hour. The centaurs spoke of ill omens, and in an obscure temple in Central America, the priests rejoiced.

...

In the morning, the trio set out again. They walked through the abandoned nursery for hours, but they still did not reach the edge. It seemed to go on forever. In the evening they reached a clearing, with a stone statue of a snake in it. Ron and Harry were repulsed, but Hermione was fascinated.

"Who would put a Toltec statue in a nursery in England?"

"I would." A voice spoke behind them. Harry and Ron whirled and put themselves in front of Hermione with their wands up. The man who spoke raised his hands in surrender.

"Peace, I dont want to hurt any of you or any of yours." He spoke in a faint accent, Spanish but with a hint of something else.

"I have come to help."

"Why?" Harry asked. He grinned, brightly.

"Young one, you are a speaker of the serpents! When you called, what could I do but come?" He stepped toward him, and his eyes were a brilliant gold, but with the pupils of a snake. Ron tensed.

"So you're one of the Voldy's pets, huh?" The man looked offended.

"The one you speak of is an abomination and will be destroyed. He enslaved my cousin and puts my kind to shame." Hermione looked faint. She had just put the pieces together.

"You're Quetzalcoatl. The feathered serpent." The man nodded.

"Yes, I am. I thought that you would be less worried from my human form."

"Less worried!? You're one of the gods that took human sacrifices!" Quetzalcoatl looked sad and distant, and rubbed some scares that cut deep into his upper arm.

"Our worshippers do not always worship us in the way we wish. Every death in sacrifice hurts the god that sacrifice is to, it was a protection put in place by the Creator. However, some fall into madness and welcome the pain, even demand more. Most of my cousins did. But onto other things.

"I can help you. That locket is an abomination that I can destroy- I have access to unholy fires that melt the very souls of men. A housewarming gift, if you can believe it, from Xiuhtecuhtli, my cousin. He's a pyro."

"Something like that." Hermione muttered. Harry cut in.

"How do we know you're sincere? We need a show of faith." Quetzalcoatl, far from being offended, laughed long and loud.

"Oh, you're a sly one, aren't you? Just so you know, I had to get permission from Green Man to come, and had to trade a favor for use of this place. Anyway, come with me." He stepped forward, and the world went sideways.

...

When they regained spatial awareness, they were in an an apartment that looked normal at first glance. It was neat, but the decor was handmade in a surprisingly modern style. There was a small kitchen, with a sink, refrigerator, and a coffeemaker. The sink had two spouts, and the coffeemaker smelled more of chocolate than of coffee grounds. Quetzalcoatl noticed them looking and laughed.

"I try to forget the bad old days. However, I never was able to give up Xocolatl." He gestured to the coffeemaker. He saw that they were nervous, and sighed.

"I promise I'm not going to roast you. See, it's this easy." He strolled to the sink, pulled the 'hot' knob up and fiddled with it, and put the locket under the second spout. A burst of fire rushed out and the locket was vaporized. Harry blinked, and relaxed.

"Okay, we have a deal." He acquiesced. Quetzalcoatl grinned.

"This'll be awesome!"

...

The Green Man regularly took tea with Demeter. He told her of this most interesting meeting he had with Quetzalcoatl, and the bargain he struck. He wondered aloud why the serpent would do that. Demeter just smiled.

"Quetzalcoatl wants to atone for what is not his fault. He has yet to realize that he has already- he really is very young, mentally. I hope his new friends will help him." Green Man snorted.

"They're _heroes_ , 'Meter. Of course they will."

...

A nursery, in the way I'm using it here, is a store that sells plants in various stages of maturity. There's one near my house that must be at least a square mile.

I'm glad you like my story- please review if you have any ideas as for what to do next. I might use them.


	5. Not big or blue, but helpful

Thank you for your reviews!

Katzztar: thank you for the suggestions. The purpose of this fic is to try things that I haven't seen before in other fictions, and elves are kinds common. The rest of your ideas are great, though! I hope to use them in the future!

Sorry this one's short this week.

...

Hermione sighed wearily as she exited Borgin and Burkes. Another source of information, denied to her. They were running low on help. She made her way back to Harry and Ron, unaware that there was an additional weight in her backpack.

...

Later, when the Trio were settling down for the night, Ron noticed an odd object in Hermione's bag.

"Hermione? What's that weird teapot?" Hermione looked up and replied.

"The teapot is in the cabinet, Ronald. There isn't one in my bag."

Ron lifted the item up.

"Yes there is! It's right here! And there's even writing on it! It's dirty, though." He started to rub the lamp, to shine it a bit. Suddenly, there was a bright flash and a cloud of smoke. The Trio scrambled to their feet and aimed their wands at the figure that suddenly formed. The smoke cleared, and a tall, surly man in Middle Eastern garb addressed them. He looked normal except for a faint grey tinge.

"What do you wish, my master?" Ron looked to Hermione. She was amazed.

"A djinni! I didn't know those were real!"

"A genie?" Harry said. The creature turned quickly and took out a knife.

"Insults and slander! I am a djinn, of the proud race of djinni! Tell me who you are, and face my blade!" Ron found his voice, and immediately jumped between the creature and Harry.

"Hey! If I'm your master, I forbid you to harm him! He's my friend." The djinn immediately settled.

"You have great dark magic on you, friend. I can remove it, if my master wishes me to." Ron lit up, and immediately consented. A great cloud ran screaming from Harry's head. The trio looked at each other in horror, and then Hermione looked at the genie speculatively.

...

Do I really need to say what's next?

...

Thank you for reading, and please do review! It's nice to have feedback.


	6. Down in the Dark Woods

Traitor arc

Draco looked at the entrance of the room of requirement. He needed to work on the Vanishing Cabinet some more. He paced back and forth in front of the doors, repeating softly the mantra he had come to hate.

"I need a place to keep something safe. I need a place to keep something safe. I need a place to keep something safe."

However, the Room wasn't programmed to listen only to words, but also thoughts.

 _I wish someone understood me. I wish someone wouldn't judge. I wish I could have a friend._

He walked into the room, only to find himself in a forest. It was night, and the overgrowth was turned around, but there wasn't a door behind him. Nervous, he went on his way.

He saw a fire in the distance, and headed towards it. He reached the edge of the clearing where the fire was and looked around.

The fire wasn't really a fire anymore, just glowing embers. The camp was small, with a cast-iron pot near the fire and... Was that chainmail? He didn't have time to look further, thoug, because something sharp and cold pointed against his neck.

"Why are you here?" The voice was cold, and the steel on his neck didn't shift. Draco scrambled for his wand, but the dagger dug deeper, starting to break skin.

"Don't struggle." Draco immediately stood still and protested his innocence.

"I don't even know who you bloody are, much less why I would be looking for you in this blasted forest!"

"Like I'm naïve enough to believe that. Tell Morgana that I found you, like the rest, and will not see her again."

"Who the bloody hell is Morgana?" The knife stilled, and with lightning speed, it switched. The new blade was cold, and had an aura of malice about it.

"I don't want to negotiate with Oberon either! Why can't you people just leave me alone to stew in my miserable traitorous personality?!"

"Look, I have no clue who the bloody hell you are, but you _will_ let me go!" Draco managed to work his wand free and point it at the man. He was wearing a hood and cloak, in dark colors, that made it impossible to see his face. He was heavily muscled, though, and had a huge sword in his hand.

"Sorcerer. Huh, I expected many to try to find me, but Merlin is not one of them."

"Why would Merlin not want to find you?" Draco asked. "Oh, wait, I know- he's the greatest wizard who ever lived and you're just a filthy muggle in the forest."

He kept his wand pointed at the man, who laughed bitterly and lowered his sword. He half fell onto a stump, and gently laid the sword beside him.

"Mate, you seem to be a most confusing mix of court magician and hidden under a rock for the past five years. I thought everyone knew that I killed Arthur." He said this matter-of-factly, as if it was nothing. As if he had not just said that he killed a man.

"Who the hell is Arthur?" Draco asked. He knew that he was far from home, just not how far.

"Who the hell is Arthur?" The figure mocked. "Only the greatest king yet to live, according to Merlin. My da, according to my witch of a mum. A bloody noble and pompous overbearing twat, if you ask me. The people agree with Merlin. The trees agree with me, or at least they don't disagree out loud. The people decided I should be with the trees, and toss me out of any settlement I come across. I'm lucky if I don't get rotten vegetables tossed at me while I'm at it. And you say 'who the hell is Arthur'!?"

"You killed him?" Draco asked. He could see just the tiniest bit of hurt in the man's eyes. He slowly sat down on the ground across from him and lowered his wand. The man looked at him less warily, and nodded once curtly.

"What was it like?" He asked, genuinely curious. He thought of faces he knew, faces that would soon be dead if the Dark Lord had his way. He knew he would have to do what this man had done.

"That's a rather personal question." The man told him.

"My apologies- my name is Draco Malfoy." He watched the man, but he showed no signs of recognizing the name.

"I'm... well, call me Mort, Son of No One, Ap Arthur, Arthur's bane, take your pick. Not like I have much of anyone to talk to here anyway."

"Alright." Draco was still watching 'Mort,' who looked up from scuffling his feet in the dirt.

"Why do you ask that?" He asked, calculatingly.

"I have found myself in a... Situation. My Lord and some people I know are at odds."

"What are their names?"

"They aren't friends. I've just known them for a while. I am expected to be able to kill him."

"... My friend's names are Gaheris and Kay. They were fellow Knights. Gaheris is all right. Kay got on the bad side of my mother's second in command. I saw him carried away but I don't know how he is."

"... Potter's been my nemesis for six years now. Granger's backed him up, she's my main competitor scholastically. Weasley has a legion in the form of family, and he considers Potter a brother. Longbottom isn't too bad, but he'll probably die first. Lovegood constantly has her head in the clouds."

"If you know people, it hurts more." Mort recited the words almost robotically, like they had been drilled into him.

"Who taught you that?"

"My mother. She wanted Arthur's throne. I guess the best way to do it was have an illegitimate son with him and train said son to kill him from birth."

"... She wasn't a Slytherin, was she."

"What's a Slytherin? Is it a witch thing?"

"You could say that."

"Well, my dear old mum is a card-carrying, cauldron-bubbling witch. I'm fairly sure that's why I'm not dead right now. I have no talent with it, though, can only do a couple things." He waved his hand and the fire sprang to life.

"That's wandless magic! How did you do that?" Draco gasped. Mort looked at him levelly.

"I got cold."

"But you said you couldn't really do magic."

"My mum's magic is huge, powerful waves of destruction. She wanted me to kill Arthur with a fire, or water. I had to settle for steel. She made me this sword. Then she sent me to the castle to be one of his knights. She wanted me to stab him while he slept. I managed to convince her to let me face him in open battle."

"Why?" Mort sighed.

"I am already a traitor, kin to Cain and Judas. I didn't want to be a dishonorable traitor too."

"Why did you do it, if you regret it?"

"My mother told me to kill a man I had been raised from birth to hate. She told me it was my duty. She implied that she would love me. I was fifteen and stupid. She gave me a 'strength potion' before the battle- I woke up with a sword through my gut. Very unopleasant feeling. Even more so when you find a dead king on top of you. I ran, she chased me. Apparently, she needs me to be a puppet ruler, because she doesn't have royal blood. I disagree. Here we are, in the middle of bloody nowhere and I'm saying this to someone I met ten minutes ago!"

"Lack of human contact will do that to you." Draco murmured. He remembered some of the Death Eaters who had been freed from Azkaban. Even the ones put in the parts of the island without Dementors were not right in the head because of the solitude.

"Huh. Here I was thinking that I was driving myself insane."

"And you do regret it?"

"Every day. The best advice I have to give you is choose your side carefully and never betray it."

"How do I choose the best side?"

"How do they treat you?"

"Well, my enemies don't hurt me near as much as my Lord..."

"There you have it. I see a door behind you, you probably have to go."

"You want to come with?"

"And be stuck in the middle of a mass of wizards who look down upon me because I can't perform magic? No thanks, I'll stay here. I saw how you looked at me."

"Alright. I'll try to find you when the war is done."

"It's not like I'll be anywhere else!"

Draco turned and saw that there was indeed a door behind him. He went through and found himself where he left. Shaking himself off, he went on his way.

...

He stood outside of the Griffindor Portrait and knocked. Weasely opened it, and immediatly pointed his wand at him. He held his hands up,

"I don't suppose you could arrange something like asylum, would you?" He asked. Weasely called his friends, and after a short conference, invited him in.

"We are willing to make a deal. Safety, for information."

"Glad to help. There's a broken vanishing cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things..."

...

 _Several months later, Malfoy Manor, Secret Floo Room_

"Potter, if this is a wild goose chase, I will murder you!" Malfoy muttered. Over the floo, he heard his reply.

"It's not like you're not related to Bella. You're probably the closest blood relative that is unconvinced of aiding Voldemort. Think of it this way: we aren't asking you to break in, just asking the goblins to let you collect an old debt in the form of an artifact."

"Still, it better work!"

...

 _Later, At the battle of Hogwarts_

"Ginny, take everyone and protect the castle. Malfoy, you're with me- you know how the inner circle fights. If you see your mother, stun her and levitate her into the castle. No cursing her while she is unconscious. If anyone finds Snape, he should be treated the same way- he's the Order's spy like Malfoy is ours."

The army yelled assent and charged into battle.

...

 _Ten years later, King's Cross_

Draco saw Potter's family across the station, and pointed Scorpius to them. The boy shot off, saying his goodbyes over his shoulder. Draco followed at a more sedate pace, with his wife behind him. Potter was comforting his youngest, so he waited a bit before talking to him. All was well.

...

Somewhere in a dark forest, a hermit smiled.

...

Goodness gracious, that was a long one. Reviews are appreciated- can you guess who Mort is?

Thank you for reading!


	7. Terra Australis

Sorry for the wait. I've decided to make these one shots longer, if I can. Here's what's been earning my brain for the past couple of weeks.

...

Harry sat at the window in his room, waiting, once again for summer to come to an end. He was once again trapped down in the hellhole that Dumbledore called his home, and was questioning the judgement of the entire Order who sent him here. As soon as he was offered a home- from a man who had been suspected of killing his parents not five minutes before- he accepted, and they didn't think to ask why. They didn't think to look beyond their rosy conceptions of the life of the Chosen One. Even Sirius didn't think to ask about the Dursleys. Harry supposed that it was because he didn't really understand the concept of proper treatment of children from his own childhood, and didn't hold it against him. It did no good to revile the dead, after all. That train of thought send him spiraling back down into depression, so he consciously started thinking of something else.

 _I wonder how Hermione's doing..._

...

In the middle of a desert, a large wooden homestead stood. It had a haphazard look to it, and looked beaten by the sun and stand, but it was still sturdy. The only person for miles, who happened to be the inhabitant of the house, sat on the porch and watched the cattle grazing in the scrublands. His gaze was attracted to a speck in the distance. It got closer and closer until he was able to make out that it was an... Owl?

"Now you don't see one of those often..." He murmured. He turned to his familiar, a somewhat argumentative kookaburra named Echo who he had adopted several years ago.

"Go see what it wants."

Echo took off in a squall of chattering and circled the owl a few times. He escorted the owl back to the building and perched on the railing while the owl flew up to him and offered him a scroll. He opened, noting absently that it was from Gringotts.

Strange. Gringotts didn't operate outside of Europe. And he was definitely outside of Europe.

After reading the note, he snapped his head back up and looked at the owl scrutinizingly. He rubbed his chin and thought, then scribbled a few words on the back with a grimy pencil he retrieved from his pocket. After giving the letter back to the owl, and he watched it disappear and then turned to his familiar.

"Come on, Echo. We need to be civilized for the next week, so you need a bath. So do I, probably."

...

Harry looked at the man at the door in confusion. Bill Weasley stared right back.

"Are you going to let me in, Harry?" He asked.

"You know how my relatives feel about wizards." He replied.

"Official Gringotts business. I need to take you with me for the afternoon."

"My aunt won't let me."

"If she doesn't let you, she is in danger of losing her guardianship over you, for meddling in the affairs of an Ancient and Noble house."

"What House?"

"The will reading of Sirius Black. With multiple sightings of Peter Pettigrew this year, he has been declared innocent. I repeat, please come with me, or your family forfeits guardianship." "They'd love that." Bill sighed. The Weasleys knew how the Dursleys thought of Harry, and hated that they couldn't take him away. He gave a half smile- well, now he could.

"I, as a employee if Grungotts bank, temporarily assume guardianship over one Harry James Potter to bring him to the Will Reading of the heir of an Ancient and Noble house. So it be. Come on, Harry."

...

The room was dark, lit only by lamps that shone a sickly shade of green. There was a round table in the center, and at the table sat three goblins, Bill, Harry, and a man with a bird Harry had never seen before. It occasionally chattered to him, and he would answer back as if it has spoken words.

"All rise for the honorable Ironspear, legal matters associate." A goblin proclaimed. Another goblin, in holy formal armor, entered the room and sat down.

"The Will of Sirius Orion Black: I, Sirius Orion Black, being sound of body if not in mind, give everything in my vaults to Harry. However, Grimmauld Place and all Black family properties are to be given to my distant cousin, Eridamos Black. Bugger you too, buddy. I also petition for Harry Potter to be placed in the custody of Eridamos, since he actually likes magical children. Over and out."

The man, Eridamos apparently, straightened and made a rude gesture at the paper. He turned to Harry and sighed.

"I'm guessing you're the kid that Siri talked about so much?" He spoke, with an odd accent.

"Yes."

"Well, then, where would you like to go? With your relatives, or with me?"

"You, sir." Eridamos raised his eyebrows and looked troubled before nodding.

"Come, then. We need to get your things."

...

Later, after a sort conversation with the Dursleys who were all too happy to hand Harry's worldly goods over to them and send them on their way, Eridamos looked toward Harry.

"Would you like to stay in England, or come to Australia. I live there, in a rather remote place; I understand if you want to stay here."

"Will I still come to Hogwarts?"

"Probably."

"Then I don't really care."

"Australia it is!"

...

"Welcome to Kookaburra Outpost, so named after my friend Echo here. It's better than it looks, a nice house out here is a tad suspicious. Put your stuff in the room upstairs and come back down, I have some stuff I need to tell you so you don't die before school."

"Like what?"

"Unlike Britian, which civilized itself centuries ago, Australian magical creatures are ancient, strange, lovely, and homicidal half the time."

"... Oh."

"Oh, indeed. Crash course: the only critters that you'll see nearby are Bunyips, because I can't keep them out, and Rain, who's a friend of mine. He has rainbow hair.

"Rain's by brother in all but blood, he won't hurt you; It's the Bunyips you need to worry about; they're large, black, and hang around waterholes to try and drown the unwary. They're spirits of the dead that were too bitter to pass on. You see any, go in the house."

"If you say so, Eridamos."

"Call me Eri. Eridamos is much to stuffy."

...

"Hello the house!" A man called to the homestead.

He walked up to he porch and hollered, "It's Rain, don't attack me!"

Harry, who had been reading his schoolbooks in the front room, went to the door and peeked out. The man was in his late teens, but he was surely not a boy, despite his rainbow hair; he was a man, you could see it in his eyes. His eyes were much too old to be a boy's, and spoke of the desert and time long past. Eri walked up to the door, let him in, hugged him, and spun him around to face Harry.

"Rain, this is Harry, my... Well, let's call him my cousin for ease."

"Hello, Harry! I'm your cousin's adopted brother, Rain."

"Adopted brother?"

"Eh, it involves Bunyips and a lineage from the prison colony." Rain flipped his hand casually.

"Prison colony?" Harry had to ask. Eri cut in, with a lecture he seemed to have been preparing.

"Harry, you know the Blacks. Did you thank they would come here by choice? No, they were sent here as a punishment. They were prisoners, less than commoners. After two generations, they acted like everyone else. Fast forward a hundred years and you get me, last of the Australian Blacks. Australian Blacks are a breed apart; we hardly have any nobility at all. As such, European Blacks don't like to acknowledge our existence. We got along better with the American Blacks before they intermarried into the local populace enough that we lost track of them."

"Wow."

"Wow indeed. My mother couldn't bear children after me, so I was a bit lonely when I was young. I explored around a lot, almost got caught by Bunyips a couple times." Rain cut in and took up the explanation.

"Mister Explorer here was in the middle of a swamp with no supervision. I was also in the swamp, but I have not needed supervision for a while. I found him ready to slip under the water. I decided that the Bunyips needed a lesson about taking children, again. They only learn for about five years each time." Rain looked like he was building up a head of steam on his impromptu speech, but Eri cut in, with the ease of years of practice.

"He killed the Bunyips, gave me a scolding, and brought me home. And never really left."

"Hey, I'd been bored for years! You were interesting."

"You _killed_ something?!" Harry backed away quickly. He shouldn't have trusted so quickly. Especially a Black.

"Hey, get back here! I won't hurt you, I promise!" Eri looked panicked. So did Rain.

"Murderer! Get away from me!"

"Kid! I don't kill people!"

"You said you killed them! You killed souls!" Harry backed up against a wall, wishing he had his wand. He hadn't retrieved it from his things yet.

"Kid, I only hurt or kill for food or to protect myself and others. It's the law of the wild." Rain tried to calm him, like he would a wild animal. Echo the kookaburra flew to land on his shoulder and spoke, in a strange, mocking voice.

"Not murderer. Protector." Harry shook the bird off and tried to run, but Eri grabbed him before he got very far.

"Kid. A magical guardian is guilty of breaking a binding magical oath if they ever hurt their child. I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to."

Rain stayed further away, but he kept his hands in sight and his voice low.

"I'm his brother. His oath applies to me as well, since I am secondary guardian."

"But killing is evil. Only Death Eaters kill."

"In England, maybe. I kill for food, to feed myself and my friends, and to protect myself and my friends from evil. From what I hear, those Death Eaters kill for fun, and that is an abomination to the Earth, the Sky, and their ancestors." Eri raised his eyebrow.

"Rain, I'm fairly certain they kill _because_ of their ancestors."

"Then they have Bunyips for ancestors. Evil spirits." Harry looked between them, confused. They didn't sound evil.

"But the Headmaster and the Order don't kill." Rain and Eri exchanged grimaces. Eri spoke.

"Headmaster Dumbledore believes in too many chances. He believes in redemption, and will not see that it costs lives."

"What?" Harry didn't understand. Rain cut in again.

"Let's put it this way. Say we have a Death Eater. Let's call him Alvin. He encounters Auror Smith in a raid, who stuns him. He goes to Azkaban, and breaks out within the month, if he even gets there. He goes on another raid, and kills more people until he is caught again. It's a vicious cycle. However, consider a Death Eater, name is... George, who goes on the same raid but encounters Auror Jones, who kills him. He cannot hurt anyone else." Harry nodded slowly.

"Okay." Rain continued.

"We will teach you to defend yourself, how you do is at your discretion."

"I won't kill."

"I respect that, you've seen too much death already. Tomorrow, we start your training."

...

 _Much later_

Harry stood to face Voldemort. What no one noticed was the charm he had activated not a minute before, calling for aid. He'd kept it beneath his shirt, for such a thing was uncommon in Britian. The charm was attached to a clay pendant, painted with colorful dots. It called for aid from a certain serpent and his brother.

A rumble filled the air. In the distance, a speck appeared; as it got closer, it solidified into a mass of color. Eridamos appeared beside Harry and turned to him.

"He wanted to make an entrance." He said dryly. There really was no mistaking who the "he" referred to, as the mass of color resolved itself into a snake the size of the Hogwarts Express.

Voldemort seemed confused, but stepped forward nonetheless. The snake raised itself up to look down upon the Dark Lord.

"Noble serpent, have you come to aid my cause?" The serpent looked enormously offended, if a serpent can look offended, and looked at Voldemort as if he was a small vole which ran out into his path.

"No. You are an abomination to a creator such as myself. I have come to hinder your cause as much as possible. First, you definitely need to die." And the creature bend down and bit Voldemort, delicately. Voldemort screamed and died. A black smoke rose out of his corpse, as well as Nagini and Harry's scar. The serpent turned and looked at the Death Eaters.

"Who's next?" He rumbled. Some put up a resistance, and suffered the same fate as their master. The majority surrendered.

The serpent then turned to Eri and shrank down to a familiar man with rainbow hair.

"We should come to England more often! I haven't had that much fun since the Great Emu War!" Grinned Rain.

"I don't think we'll be very welcome for a while, though." Eri replied dryly. Sure enough, the Order of the Phoenix was looking at Rain in horror. Rain laughed.

"Oh well. See you at the end of the school year, Harry!" And both men were gone. Harry stared at the spot where they had been standing.

"Thanks, I guess. Though you owe me for making me explain." He said dryly. Ron hurried over.

"Harry, mate! What was that?!"

"Well, that was my legal guardian and his brother. You understand why I wasn't too afraid of forgoing the protection of the blood wards when the Headmaster brought them up earlier this year..."

...

notes:

Eridamos is a constellation from the Southern Hemisphere. I though the Blacks might continue the celestial names tradition with different celestial bodies.

Australia was a prison colony after America declared independence and Britian had nowhere to send prisoners. Since the Blacks were renowned troublemakers, I imagine that at least one ended up there at some point.

If I'm remembering the mythology wrong, I'm sorry.

And doesn't every author have to write at least one fic about Sirius's will?


	8. Tweet Little Birdy

I am very sorry for the delay in updating. I saw The Force Awakens and it ate my brain. I highly encourage you to see it, if you haven't.

senawario: to clarify, I did mean "exactly as in this story." My particular Coyote and Raven are dear characters to me.

...

Fawkes sat on his perch in the Headmaster's office and listened to the conversation. He was a smart bird, and understood more than most people thought. They were planning the Triwizard Tournament- blasted thing. If they wanted to play games with the lives of young witches and wizards, they could just watch the Headmaster go about his daily business. Old coot. Her perked up when Durmstrang was mentioned, though. Maybe he could see his cousin! It had been a while since the Headmaster had let him out of the castle...

...

The Durmstrang boat rocketed out of the depths of Black Lake, much to the chagrin of Boris, who didn't understand why the school had needed to turn a perfectly serviceable caravel into a submarine. He rocked on his perch, and squawked a bit weakly. He was thoroughly seasick. Oh well, at least he got to see his cousin; it had been too long.

...

Fawkes flew across the lake with his cousin, trilling back and forth in their own unique songs. They lit on a tree and began conversing in their own tongue.

 _"It's good to see you, cousin."_ Fawkes said.

 _"And you as well, cousin. How are things in this miserable isle?"_ Replied Boris.

 _"It's not miserable in the summer, just as your country. And things are going steadily downhill."_ Fawkes replied.

 _"The Evil Ones are growing more powerful, the ones supposed to be in power are no longer good, and even the good is influenced by evil."_

Boris made a cooing noise, and chuckled a bit.

 _"Almost makes me miss the Collective! They were at least less deceitful and more cohesive."_

Fawkes was unamused.

 _"For the last time, I will not champion communism, cousin. I saw what it did to you and our other cousins in China. Still, I pity the hero's familiar. She is quite the fighter, but she'll lose him in the end."_

 _"Cousin, all heroes are lost in the end. Need I tell you about another Ivan?"_

 _"I still don't quite understand why most of your heroes have the same name. It sounds very confusing."_

 _"At least I don't have gods with unpronounceable names, like Nuada Airgétlam!"_

 _"He's not one of mine. I'm Egyptian, remember? It's Tutankhamun and Hatshepsut for me!"_

 _"And here I'd thought you'd forgotten. It's unhealthy for a desert dweller like you to live in such a bad climate, you know. It's why you keep rebirthing so often."_

 _"It's not like I can leave, Borya. The headmaster tied me here, remember? I'd go home if I could."_

 _"How'd he do it, by the way? I mean, even my headmaster wouldn't do it and he is an Evil One."_

 _"He has a bit of my ashes every time I rebirth put into a loyalty potion. The Brits are experts at such things after all."_

 _"I suppose. I have a bit of hope for you, though: I was able to call a convocation and tell them. Once we get enough witnesses, they'll come and break it."_ Fawkes slumped in the relief.

 _"And how will we gather the witnesses? The Brits don't like me."_

 _"Are there any familiars who do? Their testimony is accepted by the Convocation."_

 _"Hedwig, the hero's familiar. Possibly the familiars of those close to the hero, I'm not sure."_

 _"If we call a convocation here, Winona will not be able to ignore the Evil Ones. I hope you aren't particularly fond of any of them."_

 _"There is one who is dark, but not evil. He protects the hero. Sometimes I think that he's the only one willing. Everyone else is blinded by the headmaster."_

 _"Whose grand idea was it to give that much power to one man?"_

 _"Says the former Soviet."_

 _..._

Over the next few days, if anyone had bothered to notice, the grounds of Hogwarts became a sanctuary for every kind of bird under the sun. Large, small (though there were very few of these), colorful, drab, they seemed to all come to the Forbidden Forest. The Wizards, oblivious as ever, had no clue something was happening. The Centaurs looked to their omens for important decisions, and the Unicorns kept to themselves and kept a close eye on their foals.

However, if one looked closely, one could see that these birds weren't ordinary. They had a certain majesty to them. Phoenixes usually made other birds look drab and weak. When Fawkes flew among these, he looked as an equal. The creatures of the forest looked and wondered.

...

A giant hawk with golden feathers sat on a thick tree branch.

 _"I call this meeting to order, under the authority given to me by the Creator."_

 _"We're listening, Simurgh."_ A blue and grey hawk replied.

" _Any progress on the Evil Ones, Fawkes?_ "

" _No, Simurgh. They're spreading. I suspect corruption in high places._ "

" _Heaven knows the de facto leader of the Light is less than an angel._ " Remarked a large bird, bigger than the rest.

" _I'm not sure why you resist our interference._ " Remarked the blue and grey hawk.

" _Winona, your idea of interference is a scorched earth policy._ "

" _It works_!"

" _Welcome to Britain, Winona; they're more civilized than that._ " The large bird commented.

" _Civilization is subjective, Roc._ " Winona replied.

" _Not all of us can be Thunderbirds, Winona. You'll understand... eventually._ " Said Simurgh, somewhat condescendingly.

" _I maintain that scortched earth policies make effective deterrents._ " Fawkes caught her eye and signaled for her to be silent. She acquiesced with bad grace.

" _We cannot do anything until these allegations against the wizard are proven. We do not meddle in their affairs, Winona._ "

...

Nothing really got done for the rest of the meeting. Afterwards, the two firebirds met in a tree again to discuss.

" _Well, that was about as helpful as starting a fire in a floodplain._ " Commented Fawkes.

" _Cousin, you have a wonderfully sharp tongue in you. Please mind that you do not sharpen it further on me. I have tried to help._ " Boris replied, somewhat frostily.

" _My apologies. I get frustrated._ " Fawkes said, guiltily. The Thunderbird, Winona, landed on a tree branch across the clearing and called over.

" _Old friend, may I help?_ "Both firebirds looked at each other, and Boris nodded. Winona flew over, and alighted on the same branch.

" _Ah yes, the heroic capitalist. What do you plan to do?_ " Boris snarked.

 _"Shut it, Red. I was talking to him, not you. My cousins from South Africa, the Lightning Birds, were in a similar situation for years to your cousin's. We learned as much as we could, but nothing worked. We eventually managed to connnect them to the Emancipation Proclamation, and made the government free them. Slavery has been outlawed in England longer than America- is there nothing you can do?"_

" _Not in Magical Britain. We are foreigners, so our testimony is automatically inferior to Dumbledore._ " Fawkes replied. Boris had settled for glaring at Winona until she went away.

" _How inhospitable._ "

" _Quite_."

" _There are quite a bit of Unktehi around here. When did they get across the Atlantic? I had thought that we had contained them all._ "

" _What are Unktehi?_ "

" _Snakes the size of cargo trains, like to terrorize villages, hate Thunderbirds and Firebirds with a passion?_ "

" _Sounds nasty. I haven't noticed any if there are._ "

" _Trust me, you'd notice. Must be something else then._ "

Boris, who had evidently rethought his plan of attack, cut in.

" _Ah yes, the giant creature from Alaska. How many of you did it kill again?_ "

Winona tensed.

" _Three. I'd like to see you do better, Commie._ "

" _Americans are pathetic! It would be easy._ " Boris scoffed. Winona began to smile, in a way distinctly unpleasant.

" _I sense one right now, Ruskie. Three villages over and stuck in human form. Want to see if you can handle one?_ "

" _As you Westerners say, Bring it._ " Boris glared back. Fawkes cut back in.

" _That's not an Unktehi, that's Voldemort. Different skill set. Same level of evilness. I guess you're sensing the Death Eaters, too_."

" _They need to die too._ " Winona shot back. " _I've kept up with the news._ "

Fawkes sighed. He wished his friends were more civilized, but he supposed he was lucky to have friends at all.

" _I see I won't be able to stop you two. The Cold War is over, you know; you can stop competing now._ "

Boris and Winona leapt from their branches and sort of flowed as they fell to the ground. When they righted themselves again, two teenagers stood where two birds had once been. One was a young woman won dark hair in two braids and stormy eyes, and the other was a man with Slavic cheekbones and shocking red hair. The woman looked right at Fawkes and smirked.

"As my Confederate friends maintain, firebirdy, it ain't over until the last man surrenders."

Then both figures vanished into the forest.

...

That night, every single Death Eater, or at least the ones true to their cause, disappeared. The Ministry, investigating the disappearance of so many purebloods, was able to draw no conclusions. The only one to escape was Severus Snape, who was promptly revealed as a spy by Minerva McGonagall. Voldemort was never heard from again, and the Triwizard Tournament went off without a hitch.

Strangely enough, Dumbledore's quarters and office received a thorough sacking as well. His private journal was found on the Ministry's doorstep, and promptly read by several Aurors at the order of the Minister, revealing a history of manipulation that dated from the Second World War. He was promptly locked in Azkaban for six months, had his wand snapped, and was then placed in a small but secure asylum which pandered to his aspirations for greatness by making him Head Lemon Drop Eater. It appeared that Azkaban had completely toppled what appeared to be an already unsteady psyche, leaving the Headmaster a harmless, if annoying, old man. Fawkes had vanished, never to reappear again.

...

The next year, three figures met in a small cafe in Cairo, which catered mainly to tourists. The Russian man and the dark-skinned woman both greeted their Arabian friend warmly, and all three sat down at an out of the way table.

"How are you finding Egypt, Fawkes?" Asked the woman.

"As wonderful as I remember. I was able to talk to my family again, and I had missed the climate and the people. It's nice to be able to take human form again, if I want to."

"I'm glad, cousin." Said the Slavic man. "But I'm not sure what the big deal was about that Morty fellow."

"Honestly, I'm not sure either. He split himself, yes, but he didn't fight as one, he fought separately. I've had a harder time taken out field mice." The woman concurred.

"Then you must show me what a truly difficult fight is." Said Boris, with a shark smile. Fawkes put his head in his hands.

"Just once. Just once would I like to see my friends and have them not try to kill each other- or someone else!" He looked up to find them looking expectantly at him from across the table. With puppy dog eyes. He sighed.

"There are some troubles with the local crime lord, who's been getting bold recently. I suppose you could find his assassins..."

They grinned and took off.

Well, he supposed it was better than mutually assured destruction.

 _..._

Notes:

Fawkes, as far as I can tell, was named after Guy Fawkes, of "Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot" fame. It means falcon.

Boris, not named after anyone in particular, means fighter. Borya is the affectionate form.

Many old superstitions from the British isles tell of hair and nail clippings being used to control the previous owner. I figured that Phoenix ashes would work the same way.

Winona is actually a Sioux name, meaning First Born Daughter. Thunderbirds are Native American legends, from the area of the Black Hills.

Simurghs were a wise bird from Arabia.

Rocs are giant birds from _Arabian Nights,_ among other places.

Lightning Birds, or impundulu or thekwane, are storm birds from South Africa. I took liberties in making them Thunderbird's cousins.

Firebirds are a deity from the American Southwest.

Unktehi is sort of a generic term for monster in Sioux legend. However, this particular Unktehi was a giant snake, the enemy of the Thunderbird.

This is my first mega-crossover, and I'm not sure I managed to pull it off. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
